Friends
by thefrenglishgirl
Summary: AU/ AH. She falls. They fight. They become friends. They grow. And he falls for her. Prequel to 'Friends... and Something Else.' Three parts.
1. Chapter 1

This was supposed to be a one-shot but it kind of exploded. This three-parter deals with Klaus and Caroline's friendship and how Klaus' feelings for Caroline evolve, leading to the events of ''Friends... and Something Else''.

The first part serves as an introduction.

This is unbeta'd.

Happy reading! :)

* * *

''Ow,'' she cried as her knees hit the hard dusty ground. The swing went back and forth. She looked up at the blonde boy who had just pushed her. ''Why did you do that?! Are you crazy?!'' She looked at her chapped knees. ''I'm bleeding!'' she said, disbelieving.

''You're not bleeding,'' he huffed, rolling his eyes, as he towered over her. ''And really, it's all your fault. You've been monopolizing this swing for an hour. It's my turn,'' he told her with a bored look, arms behind his back.

He was dressed in grey pants and a blue sweater and he talked and he looked like a grownup person. A little bit like Grandpa Forbes. But with hair.

She stood up, dusting herself off, and crossed her arms. She looked at him with a scowl. ''You are not very nice! And... you talk funny! And... you're dressed funny!'' she said, raising her chin, feeling rather proud of her comeback.

He looked at her haughtily and shook his head. ''What a silly girl. And what color is that dress? Murky green?''

''Oh!''' She looked at her pretty green dress, feeling offended; she had chosen this dress with her mother. And now, it was dirty and there was a tear at the bottom. Because of him. ''I'm not silly. You are silly,'' she replied back and she shoved him hard. He fell, landing on his back, and she looked at him gleefully. ''Ha!''

He sat up and narrowed his eyes. ''You're going to pay for that, stupid girl!''

''I'm not stupid, you are stupid!'' she shouted, pointing an angry finger at him.

He stood up and snarled and pushed her again. She fell on her bottom. ''Ow!''

_The horrible, horrible boy. _

She sniffled and tried her best not to cry in front of him. She wanted to be brave because she was a big girl. Not a baby.

She _was_ _not_ a baby.

''You're mean! And I hate you!'' she screamed at him.

The boy rolled his eyes. ''I don't care.''

She pushed her hair from her face angrily and stood up. ''Well, I don't care about stupid boys and you're a stupid boy!''

And then she felt them. Tears. They ran down her cheeks and something hot began to burn her from the inside. He was looking at her with an air of superiority and a smile that spelled victory.

She narrowed her eyes.

And something snapped.

''Aaahhhh,'' she ran toward him, screaming at the top of her lungs, and tackled him; they hit the ground together with a thud and rolled in the dirt. She was making a mess of herself but she did not care. She only cared about the stupid boy at that moment. She only cared about wiping out that stupid smile out of that stupid face.

She ended up on top of him. ''Stupid, stupid, stupid!'' she repeated, hitting everywhere she could.

She hit his cheek hard.

''Ouch!''

She smiled triumphantly. But her triumph was short lived. He grabbed her wrists, making her cry out, and pushed her out of him. She landed on her side, wincing. ''Ow.''

''Niklaus!'' a big voice said. She looked up and saw a man running toward the boy. ''Niklaus.'' Then, she saw her father. ''Caroline!''

''Daddy!'' She stood up and ran up to her father and he picked her in his arms. ''Daddy. He pushed me. Twice!'' Her face felt hot with her tears. She turned toward the boy, lips wobbling. ''You suck, you and your stupid name! You suck!'' she cried and she hid her face in her father's neck, holding him tightly.

''Now, now, Bear. That is not a very nice thing to say,'' her father told her gently.

''But he's mean. He pushed me!'' she hiccuped and looked at her father. ''I didn't do anything wrong and he pushed me!''

It was not fair. It was not fair!

And he _did_ have a stupid name.

''Son, what has gotten into you?'' she heard Niklaus' father ask and she turned toward him.

The man looked nice. Not at all like his son.

''I wanted to get on the swing,'' Niklaus said in a small voice, looking down, not daring to look at his father.

''Then, why didn't you ask her to let you?'' he asked gently.

''She would have said no. I just know,'' he said, his hands in his pockets.

His father shook his head. ''Son –'' he began.

''I would have said yes!'' she cried. The boy – Niklaus – looked at her. ''I would have said yes,'' she argued again but her outrage had diminished somehow. Disappeared.

_Almost._

She would have said yes if he had asked nicely. Because she was polite. And nice.

She would show him.

She turned toward her father. ''Daddy?'' Her father smiled. He nodded understandingly and let her down.

She walked to Niklaus and stopped in front of him. ''I'm sorry for monopolo-, monopolee-, ugh!'' She took a deep breath. ''I'm sorry,'' she told him sincerely.

But Niklaus did not say anything.

_The stupid, rude boy!_

''Son.'' Niklaus looked at his father and then back at her.

''I'm sorry for pushing you,'' he mumbled. He did not look very sorry to say the truth. But it was better than nothing.

_Remember to always look on the bright side, Care bear._

''Apology accepted,'' she beamed. ''And I'm Caroline,'' she said, offering her hand.

He stood rigidly and looked at her offered hand with a look of distrust, hands still in his pockets. She continued to smile. ''What's your name?''

''You know my name,'' he told her softly and she felt bad for telling him that his name was stupid.

''Oh, I guess I forgot your name then,'' she said brightly.

''You're strange,'' he shook his head with a shy smile.

''You talk funny,'' she told him, shrugging, and she dropped her hand.

''No, _you_ talk strangely,'' he argued but there was warmth in his eyes now. ''My name's Klaus.''

''Klaus,'' she said with wonder. She smiled again. ''I like it!'' she said with a nod.

~o~

He became _Nik_ very quickly. But she stayed Caroline.

Annoying and silly Caroline.

A pain in the arse.

So stubborn.

And talkative.

And strange.

_So_ _strange._

But she could be funny too.

And she was smart.

And sometimes he thought she was sweet.

And loyal –

And strong –

And full of light –

And friendly –

A friend.

His _friend_ _Caroline._

~o~

They grew like veins in the earth and they took root in the seasons that passed. They were born in spring and they grew tall under the summer light. Grew strong under the autumn rain.

They grew. Grew beautiful and infinite.

There was no winter.

.

.

.

.

There was no end.

.

.

.

.

And then, there was loss.

_._

.

.

.

.

Bitter endings.

But never them.

_._

_._

_._

_._

Never them.

_._

_._

_._

_._

_Not for them._

~o~

She always laughed. Even when she was sad.

And she shone brightly. Brighter after the rain.

His rainbow friend.

~o~

He was born and raised in colors. Reds, yellows and blues. Oranges and greens. And purples, for he was a king. Black and white. And shades of grey in a loving absent father and a distant mother he aimed to please. So many nuances and stories mixing together and he was down to one.

He was blind to all but one.

One bitter and frigid color.

There was winter in his bones. He was a polished stone. Hard and cold. And glassy.

An icy wall.

Winter had slowly infused its numbness in him and he wondered if he would ever feel something other than this nothingness.

This apathy to the world.

Like a veil of white over his heart and eyes. Frozen rivers of white.

Whiteness that kept the beauty of the world from him.

That kept him away from everything.

Or was it him?

Was he born dead?

Sometimes, he feared that it would be everything he would ever feel.

The absence of everything.

_An everlasting winter. _

~o~

''You should have seen the look on Damon's face! Seriously. I almost felt bad for him. _Almost_. But the guy's Satan – and it's actually an insult to Satan –, he's terrible. Anyway. What was I saying? Oh! Katherine! God, the woman's ruthless –'' she stopped to catch her breath and to take another –

_Oh! _Her basket was empty.

She frowned and looked over at Nik's. Still full. Golden, shiny French fries begging to be eaten.

_An untouched glory of salty goodness._

She looked at them longingly and bit her the side of her lower lip. _Maybe he would not mind sharing._

''You're not hungry?'' she asked, hopeful, tearing her eyes away from the food. She shifted in her seat, stared at her best friend who was sitting opposite her and waited patiently for him to say something. _Offer_ her something.

But the stupid boy was too busy_ not_ listening to her.

_Seriously?_

He was not even trying to pretend that he was! Here she was, trying to spend some quality time with him and the jerk was too busy working on... _something_.

She did not know why she even bothered.

_Seriously!_

''Seriously? So, I'm going to be the one doing all the talking?'' she said and stole two of his French fries.

_There was denying it, they made the best French fries of Chicago._

''It's never been a problem before. Seeing how much you love to talk,'' he said, without looking up. ''It's actually quite impressive, Caroline,'' he commented and she could see a faint smile forming on his lips. ''And, please, leave my chips alone.''

_But –_

''I'm hungry,'' she explained. Whined almost.

''And?'' he asked, unconcerned.

''Really, Nik?'' She attempted to take another fry but he stopped her with his hand, his grip on her wrist firm but never hurting. She huffed.

_Selfish ass._

''You can be so selfish sometimes!'' she accused. He released her hand and shook his head, sighing.

''And you can be as bad as Bekah sometimes,'' he mocked her. _Ugh!_

She crossed her arms. ''Bully. Selfish, mean –'' she said under her breath.

''Says the girl who's eating my chips,'' he finally looked up.

''And still I'm sure I'm your favorite person!'' she chirped, uncaring, and stole some of his fries anyway.

''That's highly debatable, Caroline,'' he said with an amused smile.

_Oh, please!_

''Deny it all you want, you love me,'' she stated with a grin and he snorted. And the line stretched into a grin.

_Ah! _She knew it!

Oh, he liked to pretend that he did not. But she knew deep down. Plus, he did not object when she stole more of his chips. Or when she took the basket. _All hers!_

_Hmm... Tastiness.._

She shoved four fries in her mouth. ''Shis'z sho good.'' She did not chew, just wolfed down the salty delights, as if he would take them away from her at any moment.

When she felt like she was going to choke on her food, she took a gulp of her soda. The bubbly beverage hit her throat, scratching it deliciously, washing away the greasiness. ''Ah!'' She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and he grimaced.

''You're disgusting, Caroline.''

''When you say disgusting, you mean cute and disarming?'' she asked, with a tilt of her head and her best charming smile.

He shook his head. ''No, I mean disgusting,'' he said seriously, visibly immune to her charms.

_Pff._

''Oh, well,'' she shrugged. ''So?''

''So?'' he repeated, his eyes glued to his tablet once again.

''You didn't come home last night,'' she said with a snigger.

''I stayed at the office,'' he looked at her and took a sip of his iced tea.

''Oh, that's how you call it,'' she said, smirking.

''How do you want me to call it, Caroline?'' he frowned.

''You know what I mean,'' she said with a knowing smile.

''No, I don't.''

She rolled her eyes.

''Please, Nik. Stop playing dumb. It's not a good look.''

''Caroline,'' he said tiredly. ''Please, stop with the nonsense. What are you trying to tell me? And failing atrociously, I might add.''

_God!_

''Sex! I'm talking about sex!'' she said, louder than she had intended. Her eyes widened and time stilled. Her little – or _not_ _so_ _little_ – outburst had elicited the stares of a few patrons. An old lady, in particular, was looking at her intently, shaking her head. She shrunk in her seat under the disapproving glare and she heard him laugh.

_The nerve!_

''What did you say, sweetheart?'' he came closer and leaned forward. ''I'm not sure that whole lot heard you,'' he whispered. And he smiled his dimpled smile.

She felt the familiar sensation of her cheeks burning with shame and anger. _Arrogant, pretentious –_

''Go on. Mock me. Have your little fun,'' she mumbled, crossing her arms, looking at anything but him and his derisive stare.

''Now, now, sweetheart, no need to pout,'' he told her gently. ''It was just some harmless fun. Don't be mad.''

_Pompous ass._

''Anyway,'' she said with a dismissive gesture. ''Who's the girl?''

''Will you stop, Caroline?'' he said, definitely annoyed. ''There is no girl. Only work.''

''Well, that's the problem! You've been living like a monk –''

''I have not!'' he objected, looking offended.

''Oh, please, Nik! The last time you got some –''

''Caroline,'' he warned, cutting her off once more. ''Will you stop? I mean it.''

_But she worried about him!_

He was all work and no play. He rarely ever went out for drinks with her. Or Stefan. Tonight was a rare exception. And even now he was half working.

Work. It was truly all he did now. And he was alone, cut out of his family, with no one to love him.

Except for her.

_Always her._

''Hey, I'm just saying! No need to get your pants in a twist!'' she said, throwing her hands in the air. He looked at her pointedly. ''Anyway, hum,'' she said more quietly, shifting in her seat, ''I'm not judging. Really, I'm not.''

_Who was she to judge him when her love life was a bad case of ''I love you, I love you not''?_

''I mean,'' she continued, playing with her straw, ''I'm not sure I even know how it works any–''

''Can you not?'' he cut her off, grimacing; he looked positively horrified.

''Oh, please, Nik!''

''I'm serious, Caroline,'' he said. He finished his tea, the ice chinking when he put down his glass.

''Prude,'' she smiled and leaned back.

He returned her smile, looking more relaxed that he had been in a long time. It had been too long. He was always so serious, so wary.

''You and Matt are having problems?'' he asked with uncharacteristic curiosity after a little bit.

She raised an eyebrow at his question; she was the one doing the hounding usually. ''We're not having problems. I'm pretty sure we're over,'' she answered.

''Now, how many times have I heard that?'' he asked pointedly.

_True._

''Why can't things be simple?'' she sighed. ''If we keep it up, we're both going to end up alone.''

_Well, at least they would have each other..._

''I can see it already,'' she said with a motion of her hand. The one that was not in his basket. ''Both of us in a nursing home. Old and wrinkly,'' she tilted her head to the side, munching on his fries. ''But I'd still be cute,'' she added quickly. ''We'll sit side by side and play bingo. Caroline Forbes and Klaus Mikaelson, friends till the end. Always and forever,'' she nodded and beamed at him. ''Ha!''

He shook his head. ''Caroline, sweetheart, you're absolutely crazy.''

''The good kind of crazy though,'' she quipped.

''Is there really a good kind of crazy, dear Caroline?'' he asked, reaching for the basket, only to be slapped on the hand.

''Hands off, Mikaelson.'' He gaped at her, taken aback by her very sudden outburst. ''Seriously,'' she added, her voice low. ''You'd better leave these fries alone if you know what's best for you.''

''You forget that those are mine.''

''Technically, yes. But I'm hungrier,'' she said seriously.

She _was_ hungry.

She was always hungry when she was stressed out. And she _was_ stressed out. Out of her mind. So unbelievably stressed out that she could eat him too if she had to.

_Not really._

It seemed to convince him; he pushed the basket toward her. Did not even argue. ''Have at it, sweetheart.''

_The sweet boy._

''You know Mikaelson, you are – and will probably _always_ be – my favorite boy.''

_Words_, he liked to say. Always diminishing the extent of her affection. But she meant them.

.

.

.

That scared her sometimes.

~o~

Sometimes beauty was ghostly. A whisper in the dark.

A prickling sensation on the skin.

_Nik._

A voice.

Faint and familiar.

_Nik. _

Waking him to a new warmth.

~o~

He groaned, torn away from the comfort and oblivion of sleep. He felt her, pressed against his back. It was not that he minded. But it was so damn uncomfortable.

''Caroline,'' he grunted, trying to get her to move a little bit and give him more room.

She did not.

''Caroline.'' She shifted slightly but instead of rolling over to her side, she clung to him tighter, passing an arm around his waist. Trapping him on the edge of his bed.

He sighed and opened one eye. Totally peeved.

''Caroline!'' he said more forcefully, shaking her arm with his hand. ''Caroline!''

''What?'' she grunted in his back.

''Can you move a little bit?''

''Okay,'' she groaned sleepily, staying pressed against him.

He sighed, his annoyance growing.

''Caroline?!''

''Sorry,'' she mumbled and rolled on the other side, her warmth leaving him.

''Thank you,'' he whispered.

She did not reply. Had probably fallen back asleep.

And he found himself a bit lonely and cold on his side of the bed.

~o~

Spring came after an eternity. He certainly did not expect it to come so soon.

That was probably why he did not know what to make of the first ray of light that life threw at him.

Unexpected.

_Puzzling._


	2. Chapter 2

Notes:

As usual, I'm sorry for the delay but I hope you'll like (or at least enjoy) the second chapter.

Thank you to all of those who have followed, favorited or commented on this story. And a big thank you to everyone who has sent kind words. You know who you are. Know that your words of encouragement mean the world to me. :)

This is unbeta'd.

Happy reading! :)

* * *

Days went by, brushing strokes of melancholy on the way she moved. On the way she smiled.

On _her way. _

She was movements embodied in one strange harmony. _The voice of light._ Bright, colorful. Mesmerizing. And flaked under the polished surface. Only now it seemed that there was a bigger piece missing, one he could not see. One he could not define.

One he knew he loved nonetheless.

And as he watched her talk and move around him, he understood he missed it. Like he would miss her one day. A day, inevitable, when there would be less of her in his life.

He had come to accept it – they were doomed to fade anyway. Like every beautiful thing in this life.

_Promises of eternity rarely stood against the touch of time. _

But, as with everything that hurt too much, he did not dwell on it.

~o~

Spring poured into her room, coating everything around her in uncomfortable warmth; it spread gleefully through the room, going over her, poking at her through the coat of sleep, trying to shake her awake. She turned on the other side with a frown, not letting the pestering heat break her peace. Precious moments when she did not have to think, worry. _Pretend._

She rolled onto her stomach, moving to an untouched spot on her bed; her left foot ventured outside the sheets, in search of a stream of cool air, and her toes wiggled in delight under an unexpected cool caress. She kicked off her sheets, happy to have found a reprieve from the nuisance, and grabbed a pillow, pressing into it in a comfortable embrace, sighing contentedly as she fell back into slumber. _Sweet peacefulness._

Alas, it did not last long.

It never did.

Her alarm clock screeched a few moments later, asking her to please get up. ''No!'' she whined, using her multitude of pillows to cover her head.

She tried to drown the noise by pressing them tightly over her head but, if anything, the screeching seemed to grow louder, penetrating the fluffy shield.

''Ugh! Stop!''

She let out a frustrated breath and came out of hiding, throwing a few pillows angrily on the floor, and proceeded to move from her spot, on the bed, to the bedside table to turn the alarm off. She glared at the offending object, as if one look would be enough to silence it.

_It was not._

She hit the thing full force. Unfortunately, her hand collided with the stacked books that she liked to keep close; the carefully constructed tower shook and the small vase, that normally sat securely on top of them, rocked precariously, flirting with the edge of its crumbling throne.

_Oh, no._

She stood on her knees, transfixed, as the scene unfolded in slow motion. The vase continued to rock drunkenly, tripping over itself. It rolled on the table, water cascading over the books, and fell over the edge, onto the floor, in a mess of daffodils, water and broken ceramic.

_Great. Just – _

_Great!_

''Impressive.''

She turned toward the door, startled, and saw him leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed. A picture of polished coolness.

''I knocked,'' he said as a way of explanation, ''but you seemed very busy, releasing your anger on poor defenseless objects.'' He seemed to find the whole thing amusing.

''Ha, ha! You're funny! Except you're not,'' she rolled her eyes. She got out of bed and stretched and went to pick up the pillows she had thrown in her fit of rage. ''Aren't you going to help?'' she asked.

He looked at her with a mixture of amusement, challenge and something she could not decipher.

''Why would I? You look like you can manage on your own.''

He _was_ enjoying it.

''I don't know why I bother,'' she huffed, picking up the last pillow. ''You're useless.''

''No need to be rude about it, Caro– ''

_Ha!_

The pillow hit him in the face with a precision she did not think she was capable of. But, then again, he always had the ability to bring the best in her.

_Or the worst._

~o~

Her phone buzzed and she frowned.

''Something important?'' he asked between sips of his coffee.

''Hmm?'' she looked at him, a distant look in her eyes.

He gestured to her phone. ''Something came up?''

''Hmm? Oh! No,'' she shook her head, a tight smile on the lips. ''Just Matt.''

He nodded, not sure about what to say. Not sure about how he could comfort her. Erase the frown and replace it with a smile.

The truth was: it was never ''Just Matt.'' It was ''Matt and feeling insecure'' or ''Matt and agonizing over what she had said or done wrong.''

Matt and self doubts – Matt and hurt –

Matt and –_ something or the other._

He did not understand it. He did not understand the need for it. _Love._ When all it did was make her sad. Make _them_ sad. Sooner or later.

_''All you need is love'' they said._ A lie.

You needed passion, ambition – direction. But love? Love made people weak. Love made fools out of people.

_Love. _

They were all fools.

_All fools._

And, for some reason, he felt that he was one, too.

~o~

_We need to talk._

Matt's text came with a sad realization.

She did not need to talk.

She readjusted her towel and went over each hanger once more. _Nothing. _Nothing that matched her mood. Every single color was off. Either too warm or too cool. Just _not_ what she wanted them to be.

She wanted –

She wanted –

She sighed.

_She wanted what exactly? _

Between pretending and feeling, she was a bit lost. And a bit tired, too.

Tired of never saying the right thing. Always being inappropriate. Not enough or too much but never right.

_And she tried! _

_Oh, she tried..._

She tried so hard. And yet she kept falling. Failing. Always the blonde distraction. The silly girl. The fun girl. The parenthesis. Or maybe she was more of an hyphen. A transition. Someone you enjoyed until someone else – someone better – came along.

She was _just_ Caroline.

No one's first. No one's last.

Her hand finally stopped over a pastel blue dress she had bought on a whim but had never worn. Stress shopping never translated well in her wardrobe and, now that she was looking at the dress, it seemed too bland. _Too safe._

She shrugged. It would do for the day.

Another day, another uniform.

_Another mask._

~o~

Now that he did not paint anymore, he read. Black print on an otherwise blank page. He liked poems most of all. Each one a different painting. One without colors but with music.

A written melody of unspoken words.

Genuine art. Only – only he could not seem to care. There was no imprint on his soul. Only a suspended moment, like an autumn leave falling to the ground. Dead, forgotten as soon as it hit its resting place.

He turned the page, the grainy paper rustling under his fingers. Insubstantial almost. Lacking thickness and matter. He read with no urgency. Nothing could come close to what he had left behind.

But he had not abandoned everything.

Or lost everyone.

He turned to the blonde beside him, expecting her to be dozing. It had been a long, tiring day.

When she had jumped on his bed, very much uninvited, he had protested the invasion, not at all in the mood to talk – or to be pestered. But one look at her and he had known that the day had been harder on her than it had been on him. Although – it had not been so much a look as it had been an absence. A quietness. A stillness, for all her liveliness, that had told him that it would not be so bad to let her nestle against his side. And so he had made room for her and she had lied down next to him, staying silent as he continued to read.

He had thought she had fallen asleep but, now that he was looking at her, she looked wide awake. And it only reinforced his unease. To know that she was silent. Not sulking or trying to make a point. Just _silent._

''Is it any good?'' she asked.

''Hmm?'' he frowned.

''Your book,'' she said, ruffling the pages with her index finger, and her stare attached itself on him once more. The only stare he did not feel like running from.

Flecks of light that gently caressed him. Even when he was at his worst.

Sometimes, he felt that she was the only person who really saw him, saw past the biting words and rashness. Sometimes, he thought she was the only person who cared. Who cared enough to get past his bad temper. Who stayed in spite of everything.

In spite of _him. _In spite of who he was and who he was not.

He did not deserve her. She was the only thing that he never had to fight for and he did not deserve her.

Her loyalty, her light. Her laugh.

''Hey,'' she said, shaking him out of his reverie. ''Where did you just go?''

''Nowhere,'' he shook his head. ''I'm with you.'' He dropped his book on the floor and lied on his side, facing her.

''Always?'' she asked, eyes bright. A shade of blue that he could not pinpoint. _Ever changing._ And it struck him how beautiful she was.

He looked at her. _His friend._ And a nagging voice whispered that it was a lie and that forever did exist. With her. But he did not want to believe it.

_Until he did._

''Always,'' he vowed, and something soft, something tender, befell upon her. Something that found an echo in his heart. Something he did not want to ponder.

''Bad day?'' he inquired, trying to get away from thoughts that puzzled him.

''Busy day.'' She rolled on her back and she closed her eyes. ''Exhausting,'' she sighed.

''I can see that.''

"Really?'' she looked at him.

"You're quiet.''

''And that's bad?'' she snorted. ''I recall a couple of times when you asked me not so politely to shut up. Who knew Klaus Mikaelson could be so rude...'' She shook her head.

He pursed his lips. _That was true_. But, in his defense, even the most patient person would be driven off the wall by her incessant chatter.

_Incessant._ _Maddening_.

And now he missed it.

He remembered older days – sunny days – when she would move around him, talking, laughing, making him dizzy. This was what drunken happiness felt like.

_Happiness was azure and gold. And annoying chatter. _

It was her. With him_._

"I'm just swamped with work. And Carol doesn't take no for an answer. You know how it is," she explained and he nodded, not sure he believed her.

She moved from his side and put her chin on his chest and his fingers found themselves woven into her sunshine hair. She gave him a lazy smile that he couldn't help but return.

''It's nice,'' she said and her breath ghosted over his lips.

His eyes went to her mouth and his heart struggled against a sudden unwelcome grip. Confusing and unsettling.

''What is?'' he asked thickly. He detached his body from hers, his hand leaving her hair. A new distance between them.

She did not seem to mind and her head rested on his pillow.

''You not being your usual jerk self'' she giggled, oblivious to his discomfort.

''I forgot I lived with Miss Perfect,'' he smirked, happy at the change of mood.

She hit his shoulder. ''Don't you forget!'' she looked at him pointedly. ''Mr Moody.''

''I don't understand what you mean,'' he raised his eyebrows.

She shook her head and snorted. ''Oh, I'm sure you don't.'' She continued to look at him. Her smile shier. Secret almost.

She came closer, her hand reaching for his shirt, and, for some strange reason, his breath hitched. ''I want a hug,'' she said, serious. ''I need a hug.''

He did not move, her sudden proximity assaulting his farouche heart and she frowned.

''Come on, Nik. I won't bite, I promise,'' she cajoled.

''Caroline,'' he sighed when her small hand closed around the fabric of his shirt.

She held him in spite of his protests and he returned her embrace against his better judgment. He knew he was doomed to regret it.

But it was... _nice_.

''Thank you,'' she said against his shirt.

''You're welcome.''

She lingered against him and he realized –

he did not want her to let go.

~o~

There were days – harder days – when she hid behind colorless smiles. A stretch of the lips that never reached the heart. Blue days, white skies. A contradiction.

On those days, he did not know – he did not understand anything anymore. Her, most of all.

It was on those days that he resented her for being foolish, trusting people who were not worth the torturing thoughts. Her sadness. Mindless people who robbed him of his smiles.

_His._

She was too careless, always wearing her heart on her sleeve, getting hurt, never learning her lesson, kept doing it, put herself out there. Only to be let down.

Smiled. Even when it hurt. Tears underneath the smiles.

And it was on those days that he saw.

How strong she was.

~o~

''Aren't you ever afraid of ending up alone?'' she asked.

A simple question. That came out of nowhere during one late dinner.

He looked up from his plate. ''No,'' he answered simply and truthfully.

''Of course, you don't,'' she smiled and reached down for her glass of water. ''And I know you won't.''

She kept saying that, one day, he would meet someone. She said it like she believed it. Like she hoped he would. Meet someone. And it annoyed him to no end. It even made him angry sometimes.

''Why would I want to be attached to someone?''

He did not need a girl. He did not need the unnecessary complication, the doubts, the false promises. He did not care for it. And he certainly did not fall in love.

Besides, he already had a girl.

A girl had already rocked his world. Or maybe he had rocked hers. A pretty girl with a green dress, messy blonde hair and chapped knees. _His fault. _She had looked so perfect that he had wanted to ruffle her a little bit. And he had riled her up just enough. And did not regret it one bit.

''I don't know,'' she shrugged. ''Don't you think it would be sad?''

_Nonsense._

''Sad? What is sad is how pathetic people are. How people act when they think they're in love,'' he said. With too much force, he realized.

Only too late.

''You think I'm pathetic?'' she asked, as if slapped by his words.

''That's not what I meant,'' he objected.

_It was not._

''This is exactly what you meant!'' she glared from her side of the couch.

''Caroline,'' he sighed, ''you're overreacting.''

_Oh, Klaus..._

Judging by her flush and the way her eyes narrowed, he just knew he had said something stupid.

_Too late!_

~o~

He found her sitting on her bed, surrounded by a mess of tangled sheets and pillows. She was clad in pink shorts and an old faded black t-shirt he thought he had lost. _The little thief._ She was clutching one pillow to her chest, looking alarmed.

The picture she made did all sorts of strange things to his heart.

''Caroline,'' he sighed. ''You can come to my room, you know. I don't mind.''

''I'm fine,'' she replied, trying to look nonchalant. And failing miserably when a lightning flash tore the sky open. She closed her eyes tightly and hid her face in the pillow.

''Caroline –''

She raised her head from the pillow. ''I told you! I'm fine!''

''No. You're mad at me,'' he stated simply.

''No,'' she turned her face away from his gaze.

_She was still mad._

''Caroline –''

''Take a hint. I don't want to talk to you.''

He pinched the bridge of his nose. _Alright. _

There were moments in the midst of their (sometimes epic) fights when he wanted to throttle her. And there were others – much rarer – when he just wanted to hold her.

Now was one of these moments. Although –

''So, we had a little spat. I'm over it already,'' he told her with a smile, hoping she would understand that he had not meant it.

She only glared at him. ''Well, I'm not,'' she said in a false sweet voice.

The sky roared over them and she jumped. He looked at her pointedly.

''Or maybe I am after all,'' she said, standing up. ''But just so you know, you suck.''

She passed by him, still clutching her pillow, with her head held high, chin thrust forward and lips pursed.

''Isn't it my Beatles t-shirt?''

She stopped suddenly and turned toward him, with a challenging look. ''It looks better on me,'' she said tartly.

''There's no denying it,'' he agreed, as seriously as he could.

She held his gaze a second and rolled her eyes. ''You still suck,'' she retorted, with a hint of smile, before she spun on her heels.

And he followed her. Smiling like a fool.

~o~

She was bathed in light. A different light. _A new light. _Melting them under it. The icy daggers embedded in his flesh and heart. Filling holes. His unfeelings disappearing. Giving way. To her. Entirely. Caroline.

_Caroline._

His friend.

_His friend._

His hand hovered over her face shyly, drawn to her and yet so very much afraid. As if – as if she would burn him.

There she was, asleep next to him. A puzzle under his fingers.

And he did not know. He did not know anymore.

He just knew that he felt something. Something new. Something he did not understand.

He touched her cheek with the back of his hand and held his breath when she smiled in her sleep. She stirred and he snatched his hand away.

_What was he doing?_


End file.
